


Payback

by notmymainaccount



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: Extended Scene, F/M, Flashback, Missing Scene, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmymainaccount/pseuds/notmymainaccount
Summary: Set during 'The Vile Village: Part One'. A missing/extended scene set in the jailhouse. Jacques learns the truth about something that happened when Olaf and Kit were dating, and decides to pay Olaf back in an unconventional way.





	Payback

Olaf walked slowly across his ‘deluxe’ jail cell towards Jacques. “You still believe that?”

“Yes, I do,” Jacques said firmly. “Now, where are the children?”

A smirk curled slowly across Olaf’s lips. “Do you think Kit believed it?”

Jacques’ eyes narrowed at the mention of his sister. He knew that Olaf was bringing her up to antagonise him, a word which here means to cause someone to become hostile or unfriendly. Jacques was determined not to let it work. “She does,” he said. “She always did.”

“Not always,” Olaf said, the smirk now spreading across his whole face. “I remember a time when your dear sister was not so willing to blindly accept what VFD told her.”

“Only because you poisoned her mind,” Jacques snapped, before he could help himself. He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. “The Quagmires,” he said eventually.

Olaf, it seemed, was not ready to move on. “Why did you never trust me, Snicket? Your sister did.”

“One might say too much,” Jacques said sharply.

“One might say not enough,” Olaf countered. “But of course, you already knew how much your sister liked me, didn’t you? After all, you,” he paused a moment, for emphasis, “heard all about it, didn’t you?”

Jacques’ nostrils flared. Olaf’s words cast him back to a terrible night, many years earlier.

_It was the 19 th of May, [year redacted]. Jacques had been snooping through Olaf’s bedroom, trying to find something that would prove him disloyal to VFD, something that he could use to prove to his sister that Olaf was not the man she thought he was. He had stayed longer than he had intended, or perhaps Olaf had come back earlier than he had intended; but either way, Jacques had been forced to hide in the closet to avoid getting caught._

_It had become apparent after a minute or two that Olaf was not alone. He could hear muffled voices, one of which he recognised as belonging to his sister, Kit. Jacques knew that if he were discovered now, she would not trust anything he said for the foreseeable future. So he decided to remain as quiet as possible, until such time that they left the room and he could escape._

_His plan was going well until he heard the rhythmic squeaking of the bedsprings._

_I don’t know if you have ever been stuck in a closet when someone you know well is having intercourse in the room beyond, but it is not a pleasant experience. When Jacques Snicket realised that this was what he was hearing, he felt horrified, embarrassed, and mortified, a word which here means ‘embarrassed and horrified’._

_Jacques had no choice but to stay in the closet until Olaf and his sister had…finished. He tried not to think about what that entailed. Instead he scrunched himself as far down as he could amongst the assorted coats and Various Finery Disguises, and pressed his fingers into his ears in a vain effort to block out the sounds of his sister moaning. He was stuck there for twenty-five minutes, although to Jacques it felt more like twenty-five hours. Afterwards, his only comfort was that he was the only one who knew of his embarrassment that night._

Until now, that was, when Olaf’s smug words reminded him of the mortifying night. Jacques looked at him, aghast. “You knew?” he demanded.

Olaf’s smirk grew even wider, if that was possible. “Oh, I knew,” he said slowly. “Tell me, did you enjoy the show? I tried to make it as loud as possible for you.”

Jacques took a deep breath. “It took me several long years of reflection and several long hours of therapy to repress the memories of that night,” he told Olaf.

“Good,” was all Olaf said.

“And all this time, you knew?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” he said condescendingly, which here means ‘slowly, as though he thought Jacques didn’t understand’.

Jacques turned away for a moment. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the task. Then he turned back with steely resolve. “The Quagmires,” he said, for what felt like the tenth time. “Where are they?”

The interrogation didn’t get much further after that, and after Olaf began scatting, Jacques gave up and returned upstairs to Olivia. “Did he talk?” she said eagerly.

“Mostly about himself,” he said, which was mostly true. He didn’t like lying to Olivia, even partially, but there was no need for her to know everything he had learned downstairs. “He won’t tell us where the Quagmires are hidden,” he added, which was completely true.

Olivia sighed. “I just want to find them.”

Jacques felt a pang in his heart at Olivia’s disappointed expression. He had only known her for a matter of days, but in that time they had travelled a long distance together, both up the side of a building and across the country. Over this time Jacques had to admit to himself that he had developed feeling for Olivia, and as far as he could tell, she had done the same for him. But he did not want to push the matter any further, at least until they had discovered the whereabouts of the two Quagmire triplets.

Instead, he tried to comfort Olivia by telling her about VFD, and what it had been like for himself and his siblings when they were younger. She read his tea-leaves, and together they read the poem that had brought him much comfort over the years. “The world is quiet here,” they read together, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Poetry!” Olaf’s voice rang out from downstairs, disturbing the moment. “You’ll stop at nothing to make me talk.”

Jacques blinked, realising that Olaf could hear everything that they had been saying. He filed this information away and stood up, remembering the kettle which had just boiled. “More tea?” he asked again, and this time Olivia nodded.

“I don’t think I can read anything else from your tea-leaves,” she said. “Perhaps another cup will tell me more.”

“Is there anything else you need to know? Perhaps I can tell you.” He turned around, leaving the tea to brew until it was as bitter as wormwood and as sharp as a two-edged sword, as was his custom.

Olivia was standing now, watching him. “Perhaps you can show me,” she said, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. For a moment she considered back-tracking, passing the moment off as a slip of the tongue; but then she saw how Jacques’ eyebrow quirked, and she decided to leave the words dangling between them, an implied question.

Fortunately, Jacques understood. “What is it you would like me to show you?” he asked back, stepping closer to her.

Olivia could think of several responses, but she decided on another question. “How long will the tea take to brew?”

“Long enough.”

Olivia stepped forward, until their chests were barely a foot apart. “Long enough for what?”

“For whatever you want to do first.”

She felt her breathing begin to quicken. At this close proximity, she could see his dilated pupils drinking in every bit of her face, and she was sure her eyes were the same.

She glanced towards the open door, and Jacques caught her eye movement. He was about to move to shut the door, when Olaf’s words from earlier rang in his head. _‘You’ll stop at nothing to make me talk.’_ Olaf was the last person Jacques wanted to be thinking about at this moment, but it did give him an idea.

Instead of moving sideways to the door, Jacques leaned forwards and captured Olivia’s lips with his. She made a sound of surprise, but after a moment she closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. She raised her hands to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he reciprocated by bringing his hands up to her cheeks and deepening the kiss.

It was slow and sweet, and when Olivia finally broke away she felt light-headed. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Jacques, who was watching her closely with an expression of lust that made her knees feel weak. “Jacques,” she breathed, his name dripping from her tongue like honey from a honey pot.

“Olivia,” he whispered, and it was almost a moan.

She leaned forward, attacking his mouth with her own. She sucked on his bottom lip, and he gasped, opening his lips. She took the chance to slip her tongue into his mouth, running it along his front teeth. He kissed back enthusiastically.

Several moment later, it was his turn to pull back, looking at her flushed cheeks and parted lips. She was even more beautiful like this, if that was even possible.

His gaze dropped to her heaving breasts, pushed up by the dress she was wearing to blend in with the town. He impulsively grabbed her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the edge of the desk. She made a surprised squeak, but then opened her knees and allowed him to step between them. Their lips met again, this time desperate and needy. Their arms were all over each other, his threading through her hair, hers scrabbling over his back to find purchase.

Their bodies rocked together, and Olivia was pleased to feel a hardness between his legs rub against her leg. She reached one hand down to rub against it, and Jacques jumped, pulling back for a moment to look at her. She smiled back, eyes bright and eager.

Nevertheless, he had to check. “Do you want to continue this?” he asked, his voice lower than usual.

She almost rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she breathed impatiently.

“Are you sure? Just--”

“Jacques,” she told him, meeting his eyes. “I’m sure.” She reached down and cupped the bulge in his trousers with her hand. “In fact, I’m Very Firmly Definite about this,” she added with a grin.

Jacques smiled a little at her use of their organisation’s vernacular. He dropped his hands to her waist and his mouth to the side of her neck, and breathed in the smell of her sensible perfume. He couldn’t place the scent, but found it intoxicating at this proximity.

Olivia leaned her had back as Jacques began kissing her neck slowly, gently, allowing him better access. He moved down to nibble at her collarbone, and her eyes fluttered closed. A hand slid slowly up from her waist to cup the underside of her breast. She let out a gasp, before clamping her mouth closed to stifle the sound.

Jacques pulled back, and she moaned quietly at the loss of contact. She opened her eyes to see him watching her through lidded eyes. “You don’t need to be quiet,” he said.

She frowned. “The door is open,” she pointed out. “He could hear us.”

“Let him,” Jacques practically growled, and leaned in to resume his ministrations on the exposed skin of her throat.

Olivia’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a shuddering moan. She could still feel his hardness against her leg, as well as a corresponding wetness in her own underwear. She craved more contact, but knew that she would have to get out of this tight dress to achieve that.

Perhaps Jacques had read her mind, because he chose that moment to pull open the bow at the front of her dress, loosening the corset and releasing her breasts. She took a deep breath for the first time since she had put the dress on, revelling in the freedom for a moment. Then he took her left breast in his right hand, and her breath hitched again. His thumb rubbed roughly over her sensitive nipple, and through some reflex she lurched forward, capturing his mouth in a rough kiss.

She worked her way across his strong jaw to his throat, lavishing attention on a sensitive area beneath his left ear. The action made his knees feel weaker, and Jacques had to put his free hand on the desk to steady himself.

They were both breathing heavily, and Jacques became aware that they were both wearing too many clothes for their intended destination. He began to rectify the situation, releasing her breast to focus on unlacing her corset. She realised what he was doing, and started to clumsily unbutton his shirt, exposing his strong chest to the air. She rubbed a hand up his abs to his toned pectorals, appreciating the muscles before pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

He paused his task to let the shirt fall to the floor, then continued taking off her dress. She raised her hips, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, then resumed kissing him in earnest. Their bodies pressed together, her breasts plump against his solid chest, his still-clothed crotch rubbing against her underwear. Jacques gasped into Olivia’s mouth, before remembering his goal of making as much noise as possible. He reluctantly disengaged from the kiss, and groaned aloud.

He remembered the reaction Olivia had had to him groping her breasts, and decided to return to the activity. He dipped his head and licked a circle around her left nipple, before sucking it into his mouth. Olivia gasped, and he sucked harder, causing her to moan. He raised his hand to her other breast, rolling the nipple between two fingers, all the while sucking on the first nipple. After a few moments he switched breasts, licking the right nipple and pinching the left between two wet fingers. Olivia moaned louder. “Yes,” she breathed, “just like that, yes.”

Jacques’ cock twitched at the sound of her lust-filled voice. A part of him wanted nothing but to divest himself of his trousers and stroke himself, but he forced himself to pay attention to Olivia’s body, and how she reacted to each different type of touch. Not that he was complaining about this; there was something enchanting about exploring Olivia’s willing body, learning the different sounds she made as he charted each section of her skin.

He licked a stripe down the middle of her stomach, stopping just short of her underwear. She was leaning back on the desk, eyes closed, mouth open in a long moan of pleasure. It was without a doubt the hottest thing Jacques had seen – or heard – in a long time.

He moved his attention to her thighs – and what beautiful thighs they were, soft and smooth. He trailed his fingers slowly up towards her crotch, against stopping just shy of her underwear. She inhaled sharply, lifting her head and looking him in the eye. The lust in her eyes made him falter for a moment.

She reached down and unbuttoned his trousers, pushing them down to the floor. He stepped out of them, and she hooked her legs around his thighs and pulled them closer together. Their crotches bumped together, and he could feel how wet she was, even through the two pieces of fabric. His fingers returned to her thighs, and this time he trailed them all the way up to her underwear. He rubbed her through the soaking-wet fabric, and she let out a broken “Oh!” of pleasure. Jacques traced lazy circles on the fabric, watching Olivia’s flushed face and heaving chest, feeling slightly giddy at the effect he was having on her.

Eventually, Olivia grew tired of the lack of contact, and wrapped her own hand around his cock through his underwear. She stroked him a couple of times, and Jacques let out an involuntary groan.

“I think,” he said, his voice husky, “that we should remove these before one of us embarrasses themselves.” He began to pull her underwear down her legs, and she did the same for his, until finally there was nothing separating them. She pulled him into an aggressive kiss, reaching down to grasp his length in her hand. He gasped, and reciprocated by slipping a finger between her folds. He crooked his finger, brushing against the spot he knew would please her the most. Her hips jerked involuntarily, and she groaned into his mouth.

Olivia didn’t see where the condom came from, but a moment later he was slipping it on his cock and readying himself. He met her gaze. “Are you ready?” he whispered.

“Just do me,” she murmured, and so he did.

They both gasped as he slid inside her. He stilled for a moment, and they both got their breath back before he began to move within her. He pulled out halfway, then slammed back inside her, and she let out a broken cry, burying her head in his shoulder.

His hand was back on her waist, his thumb rubbing her side. “Don’t hold back,” he whispered into her ear.

And so she didn’t. She punctuated each movement he made with a cry or a loud moan, and the sound was enough to make Jacques groan as well. Their wanton cries made a symphony, an accompaniment to their love-making.

Jacques could sense that he was close, but he didn’t want to come before Olivia. He slipped his hand down between them, rubbing tight circles around her clit with his thumb.

It wasn’t long before Olivia came. Her head leaned back, and her torso stiffened, breasts heaving. She let out her loudest cry yet, and her vagina tightened around his cock, her interior muscles fluttering with her orgasm.

It was the most beautiful sight Jacques Snicket had ever seen, and his body responded in kind. He came with a low moan, and thought he might collapse, but managed to prop himself up on the desk.

Jacques leaned forward and gently pressed his forehead to Olivia’s. They stayed like that for a while, leaning against each other, slowly letting their breathing normalise. Eventually he pressed a kiss to her temple, and gently pulled himself out of her. He pulled off the condom and grabbed a box of tissues to clean them both up with.

Olivia stayed sitting on the desk, partly because her legs felt as though they were made of jelly, and partly because she didn’t want the perfect moment to end. In spite of everything that was happening, of the missing triplets, of the evil man in the cell below them, Olivia was the most relaxed she had felt in several years, since before starting at Prufrock Prep. When Jacques returned to her, she pressed a clumsy kiss to his cheek, and pulled his body close to hers.

After a few minutes, Jacques began to laugh, a low rumble in his chest. “What is it?” she asked.

“I think the tea might be over-brewed,” he said, and she smiled.

Another couple of minutes passed, and a question occurred to Olivia. “Do you normally like your partners to be loud,” she asked, “or were you trying to unsettle Count Olaf?”

There was a pause before he replied, “Yes.”

“To which?”

“To both.” Another pause, then, “Do you mind that?”

“Mind which?”

“Either.”

“No.”

“That’s all right, then.”

She smiled. “It was.”

This would not last for long; both of them knew that. But for now, they were content to sit in each other’s arms and relax.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time writing smut, so I would really appreciate any feedback on that :) Also, you might like to know that Jacques' flashback scene was loosely taken from an experience I had (although it wasn't my sister, it was my girlfriend's roommate, but still a pretty disturbing experience).


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